Lost in Suburbia classic column: This little piggy went to get a haircut

Tracy Beckerman More Content Now

Wednesday

Apr 8, 2020 at 8:26 AMApr 8, 2020 at 8:26 AM

There are some things you really want to know about yourself, and other things you could go your whole life without knowing and be perfectly OK with it.

For instance, I always appreciate it when someone tells me if I have a piece of spinach in my teeth, or a trail of toilet paper stuck to my shoe, or anything else that would make me look like a clueless slob.

I’m not nearly as appreciative when someone tells me I have hair on my big toe.

“Hey Mom,” said my daughter from her perch on the end of the couch. “Did you know you have hair on your big toe?”

I lowered the book I was reading and gazed sullenly over the top of the book to where she was pointing.

She peered over at my other foot, which was resting across the ankle of the newly designated hairy one.

“Oh! This one’s hairy, too,” she announced. “Look Dad, Mom has hair on her big toes!”

I rolled my eyes. Was it news to me that I had a couple of hairs on my toes? No. Did I want it announced to the world? Not really.

“It’s not like I’m the Missing Link or Bigfoot, or something,” I commented as I self-consciously dug my feet under a pillow. “It’s three hairs. Big deal.”

“Actually there are six on the left, and one, two three, four, five, six, SEVEN on the right foot,” she counted.

My husband came over and peered at my feet.

“Hey, you’re right,” he said to my daughter. “I never noticed that before. Nice hairy toes, Honey,” he smiled at me.

My son looked up from the chair where he was reading. “Mom has Hobbit feet.”

I shook my head incredulously. I thought about all of the good things I had going for me: I’m funny. I’m smart. I have a nice smile and pretty good legs. With all this, you’d think my family members would focus on my redeeming qualities. But instead I’m called out as a sideshow freak. The mother with the hairy toes. Momsquatch.

“You could wax them, you know,” suggested my daughter.

“Or shave them,” added my son.

I sat up and tucked my Hobbit feet underneath me.“Maybe I like my hairy big toes,” I said irritably. “Maybe I’m okay with being less than perfect.”

My daughter came and sat next to me and gave me a hug. “Oh Mom, it’s not a big deal,” she soothed. “We know you’re an amazing mom and you’re pretty and you’re smart. And we know you’re not perfect. Nobody’s perfect!”

“Thank you Sweetie.” I said.

She let go of me and squinted at my face.

“Hey Mom, did you know you have hair on your chin?”This is a repeated Lost in Suburbia column, which has appeared in GateHouse Media newspapers since 2008. As Tracy Beckerman’s main column is shifting focus - her kids are grown and she has moved back to the city - we are rerunning her earlier work for readers who may have missed these the first time around. You can follow her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage/ and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/tracybeckerman.